


What You Want Most

by redretroconverse



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirates of the Caribbean Fusion, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-03-18
Packaged: 2018-03-18 11:41:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3568337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redretroconverse/pseuds/redretroconverse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>POTC AU: Belle French is kidnapped and held for ransom aboard the Golden Spinner, ship of infamous Captain Gold. He's about to discover all sorts of things about what it means to want, whether it's truly power that he craves, or something a little more... special.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What You Want Most

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elisabethcollins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elisabethcollins/gifts).



Belle French decided that she was not quite fond of the new fashion in London as she plunged downward toward what she assumed was her inevitable death. When Emma had helped her lace it up she had thought it was too tight – it had squashed what little breasts she had into non-existence and perhaps a little of her ribcage as well. She had thought then that that wasn’t healthy, but oh no, her father had insisted it was fine. It was the trend, he said. At least her fall had stopped the Commodore’s proposal, she thought, and then her head hit the water and everything went black.

…

He hadn’t planned on saving the girl. After all, it was hardly his problem if the goddamn navy didn’t know how to swim but – oh well, he’d had one of those fleeting moments where he had felt some kind of moral obligation. It wasn’t a big thing – she was only a few metres from where he had been arguing with them, after all. They bumbled up to the surface, her missing a few layers of that god-awful dress she was wearing and him gasping for his breath. He was really getting too old for this kind of thing – he’d never really liked playing prince charming anyway – leave it to the actual Charming to do that.

“Is she breathing?” One of the two soldiers that had been guarding the docks asked with a worried look,and he thought that was the most intelligent thing he’d heard come out of the man’s mouth.

She wasn’t breathing, as a matter of fact. It wasn’t hard to see why, either. He doubted he’d be able to breathe if he had that torture machine they called a corset wrapped around his chest. “Only one way to deal with that,” he muttered, pulling his knife out of the coat he’d tossed to the younger of the two and sliced the strings open. Her chest expanded almost immediately and she coughed, spluttering and blinking madly as she came to.

She was much prettier conscious, he thought.

“Miss French, are you alright?” She seemed not to hear the old soldier, her eyes fixed on his neck. “Where’d you get that?” She asked, her big, blue eyes wide and voice breathy.

“Get what, dearie?” He asked, slightly bemused by the wonder in her eyes. She tentatively raised a hand to his medallion, the golden skull he wore around his neck, the one that he knew his son, wherever he was, also wore. Or had worn, at least, the day he was lost. “This.” She had her fingers, tiny and small on his chest, and he was momentarily surprised at her dismissal of propriety.

“Shouldn’t we introduce ourselves, _Miss French_ , before I give you a detailed account of my personal belongings?” He smirked down at her and she scowled back, seemingly unaware of her state of undress and the fact that she was shivering all over the place like a half-drowned rat.

“It’s just that –“ He didn’t know what compelled him to do it, but he was suddenly pulling his coat out of the younger soldier’s outstretched arms and spreading it around her shoulders. Her bright blue eyes seemed to become a little wider at that, and she smiled. She had one of those smiles that seemed to make the whole world bigger, and he didn’t know what to do with that, so he scowled back. She didn’t seem deterred by that, leaning forward and touching his hand lightly. “Thank you.” She said with another one of those smiles he didn’t quite trust. He’d met too many women who smiled to get their way, all of them just as beautiful as this one. He refused to let himself get pulled in.

“Welcome, dearie.” He said with no small amount of wariness. That was of course when he heard the soldiers.

“Get your hands off my fiancé.” A large, strapping boy stepped out of the crowd of them and Gold sneered, rising to his feet. “Alas dearie, the woman was touching _me_.” He didn’t respond to the guns aimed at him, simply sparing the men an eyebrow. From what he’d seen of these soldier's skills, he hardly felt threatened.

“Did he _undress_ you?” An older man, the girl’s father, he assumed, looked appalled. “He was trying to save my life, Papa.” The girl looked mildly irritated as she was helped to her feet. “I doubt he had any ulterior motives other than that.”

He flashed his teeth, giving her his filthiest grin. “You give me too much credit, Miss French. You are a _very_ beautiful woman, after all.” He made sure to roll his R's, giving her a suggestive look. Her father’s response was succinct, while she simply glared. “Shoot him.” He ordered simply, and Gold’s theory that she was the governor’s daughter was proved right as all the men jumped to obey him, cocking their rifles.

“Stand down!” The girl ordered, stepping forward as if to shield him. “He saved my life, _please_.” He’d heard many stories of her, this Belle French, the governor's daughter, from the little time he’d spent in Port Royal. A strange girl, they said – always reading and even sometimes daring to question the authority of her father. It didn’t matter to him – all he wanted was her ransom, and they could hardly make that easier for him. It did however, offer a very welcomed change from the usual quiet, rather boring ladies who said nothing but simply cried and wept and were always inevitably pale or shaky on their feet. It was rather exciting to find one who had a voice, he thought fleetingly.

He checked out of the corner of his eye – the _Gold Spinner_ was in perfect position – his crew wouldn’t be expecting him back so soon, but they’d be ready – they always were. Her fiancé stepped forward, eyeing him testily. “What do they call you, man?” He asked, holding out his hand for Gold to shake. Gold weighed his options, before sticking out the hand where his mark was. If his suspicions were correct, this would be a man that would check.

“Gold. _Captain_ Gold.” He said, smirking as he took the other man’s hand. As he suspected, the younger man pushed back his sleeve immediately and let out a whoop of triumph as he saw the branded 'P' that made both him and the lovely Miss French roll their eyes. “Honestly Gaston,” she said with a little impatience, “he wears the pirate seal around his neck – did you really need to check his hand?” The man flushed red, looking at Miss French with no little annoyance. “It never hurts to be sure, m’lady.” She simply huffed, muttering under her breath as she looked away. “Irons, please!” The younger man called, and Gold’s smirk only widened. This was always his favorite part. The look of shock on their faces as he outsmarted them all. The irons tightened around his wrists and Miss French cried out in outrage.

“He will hang tomorrow.” Miss French’s fiancé crowed, which apparently just made the little Miss French all the angrier. “No he will not!” She insisted, crossing her arms and glaring at her apparent fiancé. “He just saved my life and you want to _kill_ him?” She took a step closer to him and Gold waited in anticipation for her to be right in front of him, where he could make the grab, clean and simple.

“One good deed is hardly enough to redeem a man of a lifetime of wickedness.” The little prat said as self-righteously as he’d ever heard it and Gold chose then to lunge as the girl took a breath, clearly prepared for another blazing argument. She barely had time to blink before she was pressed back against his chest, trapped.

“Though it surely seems enough to condemn him.” He commented idly, his chains wrapped firmly around Miss French’s pale, thin neck. It’d be easy enough to snap it, he thought, if need be, but he doubted it would. Besides, it'd be a shame. He rather liked her.

“Let me go!” She yelled, elbowing backward and knocking the wind out of him a little, but he’d hardly be the Dark One if he allowed a silly little lady to render him useless. He gritted his teeth and pulled backward, so her head was nestled tightly under his chin. She smelled of roses. “Not another move, sweetheart, or I’ll snap that pretty little neck of yours.” He growled, and turned his attention to the swarm of soldiers, moving backward toward where he knew his ship was docked. He’d have to thank Mulan for that; it was strange how all these Europeans only needed to see one Chinese girl dressed as a man to be so assured that it was a Chinese trade ship.

“Shoot him! Shoot him!” Her fiance was calling desperately, but no one seemed to hear him as he pulled the girl up the plank and onto the landing of the ship. “You will hear of her ransom soon enough,” he yelled as the girl was quickly divested from his arms by Red. “If you do everything right, she’ll be home by the end of the week. If not –“ he bared his teeth, flashing his golden tooth. Night was falling quickly, and he almost wished he moonlight would fall soon enough for them to see him in his other form, the one that inspired fear and terror – “I’ll deliver her back to you in as many pieces as you can count.” He eyed Miss French’s fiancé and snorted, smirking. “I doubt that’s very high, lucky for her.” The ship pulled away from the port just as Commodore Gaston Grant set every lady within hearing distance ears on fire with his numerous, but rather unimaginative curses.

….

“So what’s your name?” Belle couldn’t help but stare at the pirate girl before her. She was at least three feet taller than Belle, with large brown-black eyes and a part of her hair so bleached by the sun it looked almost red in the light. “I’m Belle.” She said, eyeing the girl carefully. “And you are?” “My name is Ruby.” The older girl tossed her long black hair over her shoulders and held out a hand for her to shake with a smile that could be called friendly. “Most call me Red.”

Belle smiled a little. “Because of the hair?” Ruby smirked, turning for the door. “I’d like to think it’s because of the time someone handed me a knife.” She said with a wink, and the door slammed shut. Belle was left alone with her thoughts.

It wasn’t such a bad situation, really – she was only being held for ransom. They wouldn't kill her then. Any other worries a woman captive on a pirate ship may have had, she didn't feel and she wasn't quite sure why. She supposed she rather knew _that_ feeling of fear - she had it every time she passed the sheriff on her way to town - when she'd passed the men on deck she hadn't got remotely the same feel of them. It was rather discomforting to know that pirates held more honor than sheriffs, who were supposed to uphold honor in all things.

This whole thing would get her away from Gaston and his ghastly proposal for a week, which in any case was something wonderful. A cold gust of wind blew through the cabin and Belle was reminded of how wet she was. Her teeth chattered and she drew the pirate’s coat tighter over her shoulders. His coat smelled like rum and spice. She sat on the small cot at the side of the room and slipped the coat around her arms. She might as well use it, she thought. He had offered it freely, after all. Gold was a different sort of man, she thought, as she drifted off. Biting and cruel and threatening, but yet kind. Strange man. Strange pirate, she corrected, and fell into a heavy, uncomfortable sleep, rum and sea-salt and _him_ hanging on every breath she took.

…

Gold stripped himself of the wet shirt and drew a red silk shirt from the small closet present in his quarters, slipping it around his arms. “How’s the girl?” He asked, turning to Red, who was lounging on his bed with her feet up. He grabbed his cane, dusty from disuse and smacked her legs.

“Off my bed, Miss Lucas.”He sneered and she put her hands up in surrender, getting off and settling herself instead into his favorite chair. He sighed, giving up the fight to keep the girl off his furniture and instead waited to hear her news.

“She’s taking it remarkably well, actually.” The girl said thoughtfully, turning to look out the small window that lay just slightly above the girls head and well over his. “You’d think this happened before.”

“Wouldn’t be surprised if it had.” He unscrewed the cork of his bottle of rum and spat it out. “The ‘Royal’ Navy’s skills are atrocious.” He snorted into the bottle. “Can’t even swim.”

Red chuckled, but her laughter died off as she glanced out of the window once more. Night was falling, and that meant… “Are you going to let her see you as…” She gestured at the moon, which stared mockingly down at him through the window.

His eyes darkened almost imperceptibly, and before he had formed words he felt his skin ripple and he knew his change had come. He shifted a little as he sat, stretching out his now scaled fingers with a wicked smile. Red shivered.

“Why of course.” The Dark One purred. “It wouldn’t do to keep secrets from our guests, would it, Miss Lucas?” Red squared her shoulders, frowning back at him. His eyes glittered at her, larger and wider and sparkling more than any man’s should.

“I suppose not.” She said finally, and made for the deck.  _  
_

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Adopt A Rumbeller Week on tumblr and because elisabethcollins is simply wonderful. I hope you liked this!


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